Rev. Roderick Campbell’s Induction Day

I thought you’d like to hear of another view of that really important day on the Lismore and Appin Church Calendar.

I woke to find a really nice day, full of promise. After going to the hens and letting the dog out for a run, I had a leisurely breakfast as Duggie, Lorne and Douglas were at a sheep sale in Dalmally (I could comment on looking after the flock) Duncan MacGregor’s lambs were being sold that day too but after two years of searching for the aforementioned minister , Duncan wasn’t about to miss the Big Day.

All ladies contributed to the celebrations and I had volunteered to make soup. Pretty average day so far you may think but it was all downhill or up in the air from here on!

As I had plenty of time I busied myself with clearing out the carousal, so while I was on my knees cleaning tins I had a few words with Himself and started to practice my song for the afternoon’s celebrations.

Having just finished the third rendition of ‘An t-Eilean Beag Liosach’ I opened the door to find a pleasant couple (they’d picked up bikes at Point and had called to pay for them) who apologised for disturbing me and thanked me for my enchanting song ,I didn’t even have time to reply when there was an almighty bang followed by a mini atomic mushroom and my kitchen ceiling was plastered with Scotch Broth.. Enchanting voice let out an almighty squawk and started gibbering, couple retreated, muttering something about the distance one pot of pressurised soup could travel.

Still gibbering I mopped the soup from the ceiling, work surfaces, microwave and cooker and no, I didn’t return it to the pot but added some stock (I’m sure Delia Smith never had this problem).

As I now had even less time to reach the wee manse with the offending pot ,when another couple phoned for bikes I asked them to help themselves from Point and come down to the house and pay .

Things were looking up thought I as Peter arrived for a break from renovating Tirfuir and alerted by the high pitched phone conversation along the lines of:-

“Of course I’m fine I just need to comb the vegetables from my hair and get changed ………..”

Laura arrived to see if I’d had a relapse. Cyclists arrive to pay and I find that three of the four bikes are mine but I’ve no idea who the other one belongs to.

Role reversal now ,

“Mum you can’t hire out someone else’s bike!!!”

What’s a good Christian to do faced with two accusing children?

Carry on regardless (well not quite, stomach churns and further mindless gibbering ensues) what else can I do, if I exchange bikes I’m left with the evidence. Smile to nice people who look to my minders for advice and explanation.

Eventually me and the offending soup leave for the church to be met by one of the Church ladies who informs me lunch is over so soup is not required. Resist the temptation to deposit soup on unsuspecting lady.

I return the soup to the car and after a swift prayer for calm, walk sedately and with reverence (I hope) down to the front of the church to join the other elders.

The rest, as they say, is history.



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